Underneath the Makeup
by Dark Knight HQ
Summary: After learning more about Harley Quinn, Batman decides to try a new type of rehabilitation - introducing her to living with Bruce Wayne.
1. Prologue: A Chat with Poison Ivy

_**Prologue: A chat with Poison Ivy**_

 _Disclaimer: I own none of Batman, nor any of its characters. I only take credit for the plot of this fanfiction._

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Not in the slightest, Robin, but we have to start somewhere, and she's our best shot at finding them." The deep voice of the caped crusader echoed around them, as the two figures made their way through the brightly lit halls.

It had been two weeks since the Joker and Harley Quinn had escaped Arkham Asylum again, and Batman, with the help of Robin, had been attempting to track them down, but with very little progress. Unlike all other escapes by the Clown Couple, this one was quiet and caused no deaths or even serious injuries. The doctors and police were relieved, if not confused at the lack of dramatics during this breakout. Batman, however, was more suspicious than ever before of the mass murderer's plans, especially since Harley hadn't even stolen her costume and mallet from the asylum before leaving.

Bruce shook his head to clear it - he never could understand how the mind of the once brilliant Harleen Quinzel worked - and continued through the halls of Arkham with Tim, ignoring the yells from the inmates they passed on the way. When they arrived at the interrogation room, they were greeted by Dr Leland, Harley's psychiatrist.

"She's just inside, Batman, and I must warn you that she has been going through phases of extreme anger and sadness - apparently Harley never told her she was planning an escape - and may be reluctant to speak to you." The Dark Knight understood what she was trying to avoid saying, and voiced it himself.

"Robin, this is a very strange situation, and I think she would respond better to one person talking to her. This has never happened before, and she might be just as confused about it as we are, so maybe you should stay out here."

"But that's not - okay I'll stay here." Tim began to argue, only to be stopped by Batman giving him a look that simply said "Trust me". Leaving his sidekick to sulk quietly, Bruce opened the door without another word and stepped into the interrogation room, looking at the woman handcuffed to a chair.

To many people, Poison Ivy - previously known as Pamela Isley - was one of the most attractive women in Gotham, topped only by Catwoman (although there were rumours that underneath the white face paint and the gaudy makeup, Harley had them both beaten.) Batman, however, had never found the plant-hybrid beautiful in any way, quite possibly because he knew of the ways in which she would seduce men for money and riches, and he'd had more than enough of those types of women. Selina Kyle and Talia Al Ghul were perfect examples of that.

"Ah, Bats, what a surprise." Ivy snapped as she glared at Batman, who instantly understood what Leland meant when she spoke of Ivy's reluctance to talk. "I don't know anything about where Harley and the clown are, she didn't say a word to me about her leaving this place."

The hurt in her voice was barely audible but the Dark Knight heard it clearly.

"Ivy I need information and I need it now. The Joker and Quinn have never been this quiet before and I have to know why. If you know ANYTHING, tell me."

Ivy smirked at Batman, showing off shiny teeth. "Quiet, you say? Well, I have no idea why that might be on the Joker's part, but I know exactly why Harley won't let herself get caught."

"Why?"

"Straight to business, then? Shame. But it's simple: she doesn't want to see you." Ivy paused for dramatic effect here, but continued when she saw the Dark Knight's patience wearing thin. "She's scared of you, now that she's realised what you can do. She thinks that by not seeing you, she can prevent it, though she's wrong of course."

In one swift move, Batman had the woman pinned roughly against the wall by her throat, glaring at her underneath his cowl.

"You are going to explain what you mean by that, and I won't ask again." He released her as he spoke, and motioned for her to sit back down and begin talking. Ivy thought for a moment, then spoke. "She doesn't know I know this, so I suppose I won't be hurting her by telling you. You know how a lot of people sleep talk? Well, in a way Harley does that too, but instead of just blabbing nonsense like everyone else, it's more like another part of her comes out to talk. I think it's Harleen."

"Explain."

"She told me once when she was sleep talking that she'd diagnosed herself with multiple personality disorder, but that it wasn't like Two-Face's condition. It's more like her true self is being repressed by Harley Quinn, but when that part of her drops her guard, Harleen Quinzel can come out and be herself. It's also like a conscience apparently, and when she does something wrong, the good part of her won't let her forget about it like everyone else here can."

Batman scowled at the woman in the chair.

"That sounds too sane for Harley, and what does this have to do with her not wanting to get caught by me?"

"I told you, this is Harleen not Harley, and I'm getting to the part about you now." She rolled her eyes and smirked before continuing. "Harleen is a good woman, probably as good as you to be honest. And only very good people can make Harleen come out of hiding while Harley is conscious." Ivy raised her eyebrows at the Dark Knight, who immediately pieced together the whole story.

"I bring Harleen back?"

"Yup, when you're around, Harley disappears and Harleen has to pretend to be crazy or risk the Joker catching on to what happens."

Bruce frowned, trying to make sense of this. He'd always had a soft spot for Harley Quinn, and in all truthfulness he had been more than a little attracted to her while she was working at Arkham. But to know that he could release the woman underneath the clown makeup was...

Unbelievable.

"... So she's staying low." Apparently Ivy hadn't realised Batman had stopped listening for a moment, and he was forced to ask her to repeat herself.

"I said that I think Harley's figured out the effect you have on her, and she can't handle her conscience, so she's hoping to stay her crazy, oblivious self far away from you." Ivy smiled sadly at this, she truly did miss her only friend.

Batman sighed quietly, frustrated and confused at what Ivy told him. "So you don't know where they might be?"

"I'd try the alleyway next to Gotham Bank, Harley's favourite hideout is hidden there and if she's not with the clown she'll be there."

"Thank you Ivy." Bruce was trying not to ask the question that was on his mind, but couldn't help it.

"Why?"

"Because I want Harley away from that clown one day, and you're the best chance of doing that. And I want her happy, and I think you could do that too."

The Dark Knight turned to leave, knowing he knew enough to hopefully find Harley. He opened the door and left, firmly keeping his mind from thinking about Ivy's last sentence.

"Harley Quinn is obsessed with the Joker, but Harleen Quinzel has loved you for a long time, Batman."

And it wasn't until ten minutes later, as Bruce Wayne drove out of Arkham, with Tim at this side, that he allowed himself to finally think the words. _Me too, Harleen. Me too._

 _A/N: There you go, then! First fanfiction that's completely mine. I'm quite proud of this, and I'm still debating whether I should make a part 2 (I probably will.) Tell me what you thought in the reviews – did you like this take on Harleen's mental state? Hope you enjoyed the romance in their too if you're a Batman/Harley shipper! ~ Dark Knight HQ x_


	2. Chapter 1: The Hideout

_**Chapter 1: The Hideout**_

 _Author's Note: Ok, I know where this is going now. As you can see, I've decided to make this into a proper story. Since I'm being careful not to lose Harleen's split personality, I may not update very often because it'll take longer to edit the chapters. That's why this is so delayed, and I do apologise for that I was trying to figure out the plot for this story. However, I do have other stories I'm planning, and some one-shots - so be sure to check them out!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

The Batmobile sped through the streets of Gotham City in an attempt to get to Harley Quinn's hideout as quickly as possible. Batman gripped the steering wheel tightly, praying that Harleen would be there - and that the Joker wouldn't be.

"Batman, what's going on?" Robin asked; Bruce had almost forgotten that his adopted son hadn't been in the interrogation room when he spoke to Poison Ivy.

"Ivy thinks that Harley isn't with the Joker, and directed me to her favourite hideout. I want to get there before she has the chance to plan anything." He conveniently left out the part about him hoping to talk to Harleen Quinzel, and the fact that she was, according to Poison Ivy, in love with him.

Tim looked deep in thought for a moment, then frowned. "Hang on for a second. I don't get why she'd be away from the Joker - she practically stalks him."

"That's one of the things I'm hoping to find out." Before Batman could continue, however, they reached the alley next to Gotham Bank, and the place of Harley's favourite hideout.

"Stay here," the Dark Knight murmured to Robin as he got out of the car, "I'm going to look for her." Leaving the boy alone to mumble something about 'always being left behind', Bruce stepped into the alleyway and looked around.

To most people, it would look like any other alley in Gotham, and there sure was a lot of them. Rubbish poured out of bins, leaving a foul scent, and obscene graffiti was painted on the grimy walls. But Batman was by no means "most people", and immediately knew his was near a Joker hideout. The small 'J' carved into a brick near Bruce's shoulder was a dead giveaway, and, with barely a moment of hesitation, the Dark Knight pressed on the letter. He didn't quite know what to expect, but it definitely wasn't for a trap door to appear beneath him, causing him to fall into darkness. He only had time for one thought: _An underground hideout._

Surprisingly, instead of hitting hard floor like he expected, Batman landed on what he assumed to be a mattress, although it was too dark to be sure. He slowly stood up, looking around for any sign of Harley Quinn, when he saw an open door at the other end of the dark corridor. Considering the light spilling out from the doorway, Bruce figured this was the best way to look for Harley. He crept towards the room, making sure to be completely silent.

When he reached the door, he couldn't hear any noise, and, deciding to have a look around, stepped into the room. It was quite small, with only a white wardrobe and a blue sofa as furniture. The walls were a pale cream colour, which complimented the royal blue carpet. Batman was surprised that a room like this would be in Joker's hideout - the man was known for his love of purple, orange and green - but was soon distracted by the small figure lying on the sofa, so quiet that The Dark Knight hadn't noticed her up until now.

Harley Quinn was clearly badly hurt. Her makeup had begun to smudge and mix with the blood running from a gash on the side of her head, and through the rips in her costume Bruce could see cuts and bruises littered all over her body. But the saddest part about this depressing scene was the fresh tear tracks glistening on her cheeks, yet another sign of her suffering.

Careful not to hurt her, Bruce gently picked up the unconscious young woman, adjusting her to avoid pressing on any injuries - and he couldn't help but notice how perfectly her body fit into his arms, head on his chest and legs peeking out of the crook of his arm. Sighing quietly, the man stepped out into the corridor, easily locating an exit through another door on the opposite side of the hallway. As he thought of what to do with Harley, he frowned as he realised there was only one place he could keep her safe.

Dick was going to have a field day with this.

 _A/N: I know it was short, but I wanted to get this posted as soon as it was done to let people know that I AM continuing with this story. Other chapters will usually be longer than this, and hopefully quicker too! Anyway, please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter! The more the reviews, the more inspiration I get (hint, hint.) ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	3. Chapter 2: She's Safe Here

_**Chapter 2: She's Safe Here**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

"This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

"Barbara, this is the only place she'll be safe; the Joker could find her anywhere else." Bruce knew this would be a difficult battle, but Batgirl was putting up even more of a fight than he expected.

"This is crazy! Harley Quinn staying in Bruce Wayne's house?! She'll destroy the place before tomorrow!" Barbara Gordon couldn't believe what Batman was suggesting - that the insane girlfriend of the most dangerous psychopath on the planet should stay in his house.

Tim decided that it might be time to voice his opinion. "Come on, Babs, let her stay. Can't you see she's hurt? We can't just send her back to Arkham; she'll escape again and go back to the Joker. At least she's safe here." Truthfully, Robin was excited at the idea of Harley Quinn living with them. It would be an interesting experience, to say the least. "And it would be a change from all the posh women Bruce normally brings home." Ah, the joy of embarrassing his dad.

"Yes, THANK you Tim," Bruce said, trying not to look too flustered by his son's antics, "but he's right, Barbara. She's badly injured and definitely not in a position to be beaten by the Joker again. It won't be forever, just for a while, and then she can go back to Arkham." He hated lying to people, but he couldn't tell her what he was planning on doing - she'd have a fit.

"What do you think Dick?" Barbara asked, looking at Nightwing for backup. "You agree, right? This is insane!"

Dick stood up, and finally entered the conversation. "Sorry, Barbara, but I'm with Bruce. It's not permanent, and it's safer than letting her go or sending her back to Arkham - she'll just escape again. Batman, Nightwing and Robin can keep an eye on her here."

Batgirl glared at all three of them, expressing her anger at the decision they had made. "Fine, let the psychopath live with you! I'm going home, and don't expect me to help repair the damage she causes, 'cause there's no way I'm getting involved with this!" And with that the woman stormed out of the Batcave, cursing the stupidity of this idea. Dick rubbed his eyes and sighed in annoyance.

"Why does she have such a problem with this? She's not the one living with Harley Quinn, and you don't see me and Tim throwing a fit about it!"

"She's just looking out for us - don't worry, she'll come around soon." Bruce said, trying to sound optimistic, like he wasn't trying to convince himself as well.

"Yeah, you know what Barbara's like, she never stays annoyed with us for long." Unlike his adoptive father, Tim didn't have to try to sound upbeat.

"Ok, I guess you're right," Dick murmured, looking at the unconscious form of Harley Quinn, bandages wrapped around the gash on the side of her face. "So, what's the plan? What's she going to do here while she heals?"

"I was thinking of letting her upstairs - I don't want to keep to feel imprisoned down here like she was in Arkham - " As he said this, Bruce gestured around the Batcave " - and make sure to call her Harleen when she wakes up. I want her to be completely separate from anything to do with Harley Quinn."

"Are you going to try and get her to leave Joker and the craziness? I guess she'll be staying longer than it takes her to heal." Tim said, and Bruce and Dick were surprised to hear a slight hint of excitement in his voice, not quite what they expected when Harley Quinn was staying in their house.

"I think so, yes. I don't know if it'll work, but she'll be staying for a while so we can have hope that she'll recover from her mental illness." Bruce wasn't sure how long Harleen would live with them, but it would surely be for a long time. He believed her insanity was curable, but it would be a long and difficult process.

He was snapped out of his thoughts, however, when Harley murmured and turned over. "Batman..." Her voice was soft, but they heard it clearly.

"I'm going to take her upstairs, you two should probably head to bed. You both have school tomorrow." Bruce said, walking over to Harley and gently picking up the young woman. "Night boys."

"Night Bruce."

"Keep the noise down, some of us want a good night sleep."

Bruce glared at his oldest son. "First of all, she barely conscious and badly injured. Secondly, her staying here is so she can heal, not for sex."

"I'm just saying, I don't know any men who would say no to Harley Quinn if she was living in their house." Dick smirked, enjoying torturing his dad far too much, in Bruce's opinion.

"I should have adopted girls." The man muttered, walking up the stairs with Harley and leaving the Batcave.

As the door shut behind him, the two brothers looked at each other. "What do you reckon she'll be like? I've never really talked to her before." Tim said, curious to hear Dick's opinion.

The young man thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. She's obviously not normal, but I think she might be nice."

"Do you think she'll ever get better?"

Dick sighed. "I don't know Tim, but I hope so.

Bruce, meanwhile, was gently stroking a strand of Harleen's hair behind her ear. Her makeup was still on - he hadn't wanted to make her upset by taking it off - but he'd taken the jester costume off of her and put her in one of his shirts. It came as a great surprise to him when he realised that Harley's outfit had a built-in bra, and she wore nothing but lace underwear when he'd taken off the costume, and he was still blushing now when he thought about it. She truly was gorgeous, even under all that gaudy makeup she wore. Before he thought through what he was doing, Bruce leaned down and kissed Harleen's cheek, then silently left her room, closing the door gently behind him.

If he'd stayed even a minute longer, he would have been able to see the blush creeping up Harleen Quinzel's face, and the small smile that graced her lips before she fell asleep.

 _A/N: So, Barbara's not too happy about this arrangement, is she? This chapter had more Harleen than Harley in it – even though she didn't actually talk – but next chapter has a little more of the split-personality. Leave a review, and I'll try to update quickly! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	4. Chapter 3: Harlequins and Coffee

_**Chapter 3: Harlequins and Coffee**_

 _Author's Note: New chapter! Sorry it took a while; I was on a trip to France so I couldn't upload. By the way, I want to thank you guys so much for the follows, favourites and views I've gotten for this story, it really means a lot! Could we maybe have a few more reviews too? I like to know if you guys are enjoying the story, and if you have any suggestions on how to improve it. Thanks. And now, chapter 3._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

The first thing Harley felt when she woke up was pain shooting through her body. She groaned, slowly opening her eyes against the light streaming into the room from the window. Thinking Mr. J must have brought her to a new hideout to heal, the jester grinned and called out, despite the pain in her ribs, "Puddin'? Puddin', ya there?" When she got no response, Harley finally took a good look at the room she was in.

This was no hideout. Everything in this bedroom screamed money and wealth, from the silk sheets on her bed to the elaborately carved door.

Harley began to feel a little scared; she had no memory of the night before. The last thing she remembered was crawling into her favourite hideout next to Gotham Bank after Mr J had beaten her and left her on the streets.

 _Where was she?_

The young woman slowly stood up, wincing when her legs and ribs protested at her movements. She limped towards the open door of the bathroom, wanting to wash her face - in all truthfulness, the only reason she wore the makeup was the insecurities she had about her appearance, and always took off the face-paint when she was alone. Harleen stepped into the sparklingly clean bathroom, and gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

Blood had dried on a bandage wrapped around her forehead, and her makeup was smudged into a mess of grey and red paint. Her ponytails had come undone, leaving her dyed blonde hair impossibly tangled and matted with knots. But what Harley found strange was the shirt she was wearing - it was clean and very, very large, reaching to the middle of her thighs and engulfing her torso and arms. The Joker wasn't tall or broad enough to wear a shirt this size, and she was almost scared to wonder whose clothes she was wearing.

Just then, the door of the bathroom opened, and in stepped the man Harley had least expected to see here: Bruce Wayne, the billionaire businessman.

"Ah, Harleen, I see you're awake. Good, I was hoping to speak with you for a while." His voice was much deeper than she had expected, almost as deep as Batman's, if that were even possible.

Harley narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her. "The names Harley, Brucie, not Harleen. And what am I doin' here? Where's ma Puddin'?" Harley was dismayed at the struggle she had had to say that first sentence, and that it was about 50% Harleen talking now, which meant trouble. Harleen only ever pestered her when she'd killed someone or something like that, and eventually she'd shut up about how evil it was and all that rubbish. Well, except for when Batman was around, but Harley didn't want to think about that particular vigilante, even as she felt her heart flutter against her will as she thought of him. Damn that bat.

"The Joker isn't here Harleen, he was captured last night by the police and is in Arkham. You're in Wayne Manor to heal, and I've agreed to help you." Bruce spoke patiently, but Harley's temper flared.

"Whaddya mean, "help me heal"? I don't need help from nobody, 'specially not you!" Her hand was on the edge of the sink, holding so tightly that her fingers had turned white. Bruce noticed this, and gently took her hand away from the sink.

"You do need help Harleen, we both know that. You'll live here until you recover from your relationship with the Joker, and I'm going to be here for you to talk to." The sincerity in his voice shut Harley up for a minute - and, to the jester's displeasure, Harleen used this moment to speak.

"No one wants to talk to me, Mr Wayne, not properly."

Bruce was stunned at Harleen's response, but even more so at her voice. It had dropped to a normal pitch, and sounded very musical. It was nice.

"Maybe you haven't been talking to the right people then."

Harleen smiled sadly. "Maybe."

Bruce smiled at her. "You can talk to me. I imagine you'll be here for a while, so I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to anyone." He was genuine; he truly did want her to talk to him. Bruce knew that what Ivy had told him about Harleen's feelings last night was true, and as the woman in front of him met his eyes he knew he felt the same way. He had since he had first become Batman and she had begun working at Arkham as an intern. Batman wanted to help Harley Quinn recover from the mental illness the Joker had given her, but Bruce Wayne was in love with Harleen Quinzel.

She just couldn't know that yet.

Realising he had been staring for far too long, Bruce cleared his throat and looked down at Harleen. "Are you hungry? I can have my butler bring you food if you want."

As though a spell was broken, the madness relit in Harley's eyes and her voice was suddenly loud and grating. "Just toast and coffee, Brucie. I ain't that hungry."

"Alright, you get back to bed and your food will be up in a minute." With one more smile, Bruce left the room, feeling rather confused at Harleen's changing behaviour.

As he walked downstairs and into the kitchen, he saw Alfred in the kitchen, and Dick and Tim already sat at the table. Pausing to tell Alfred what Harleen wanted for breakfast, he looked at his sons. "You two are up early." Bruce said in surprise; it was only 7:00am, and the boys weren't usually up until midday.

Dick yawned loudly, and muttered, "Yeah, I know. Tim got me up at half five, asking loads of questions about Harley. Bloody idiot." The harshness of his words was countered by the playful smile he gave his brother.

Tim scowled. "Bruce didn't tell me anything! I thought you might know more about it!"

"The only thing either of you need to know is that she's staying with us for a while, you probably won't see her very much, and that no matter how nice and normal she may be towards you two, she's still dangerous and unstable." Bruce said, chuckling when Tim pouted.

"Is she going to be nice then? Is she like the Joker? How unstable do you think she is? Does she know we live here too? Is she - " The boy's flow of questions was stopped by his father holding up his hand.

"I will discuss this with you both later. However, since she actually doesn't know that other people live here, why don't you take breakfast up to her and introduce yourselves? I'm sure she'd appreciate it - just don't ask her loads of questions, Tim." They boys grinned and nodded as they went upstairs, Dick holding the breakfast tray Alfred had made.

"Master Bruce," the butler said, causing His employer to face him, "are you sure that was a good idea to send the two of them up alone?"

Bruce sighed. "Don't worry Alfred, Harley Quinn never hurts children, they'll be perfectly safe with her. Besides, she's in no condition, mentally or physically, to attack someone, let alone two teenagers who aren't threatening her."

"If so say so, Master Bruce."

Dick, meanwhile, was fighting a losing battle with his excited younger brother.

"Tim, seriously, stop jumping up and down. She's really quiet in there, and I don't want you setting her off." The two boys were stood outside of Harley's room, and Dick knocked gently on the door.

"Come on in."

They went into the room, and stared in shock at Harley. Her makeup was smudged, her hair in matted knots, and she was wearing a large, white shirt of Bruce's. But what surprised them more was that she was doing a perfect handstand in the middle of the floor, grinning up at them.

"Well, I expected a butler from what Brucie said, not two kids." Harley said, her voice loud and shrill.

"Erm, yeah I'm Richard, but you can call me Dick. Everybody does. This is Tim." The older boy walked to the bed and placed Harley's tray of food on it. "Anything else you need?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks, Sugar! Oh, but tell Bruce that I don't need no one to chat to, so he can send me back off to ma Puddin'."

"He's there to help you, you know, not to stress you out. Same with us." Tim finally spoke from the doorway, smiling at Harley, who grinned back.

"Ooh, I like this one. Not many little boys can talk to the scary Harlequin!" She laughed, and the sound sent shivers down the spines of both boys.

"Well, I'll tell Bruce what you said, and I hope you enjoy your breakfast. We'll see you later, Harleen." Dick walked quickly to the door and shut it behind him and Tim, hearing Harley continuing to laugh through the door.

Neither of them spoke until they got to the other side of the corridor, when Tim finally broke the silence. "Do you think she's always going to be like that?"

 _A/N: So, everyone's met Harley/Harleen now! I know her behaviour's changing quite a lot, but that's because there are literally two people fighting inside of her. So I think that's allowed. Anyway, I've decided where this is going now, so hopefully you'll like the future chapters! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	5. Chapter 4: She has Brothers?

_**Chapter 4: She has Brothers?**_

 _Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so long to update, I've been super busy and temporarily lost inspiration for this fic! But I want to say: thank you guys SO MUCH! I hit 1300 views recently, and it meant the world to me! I hope you guys are still enjoying the story!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

 _What ARE you doing Harley?_ The natural, slightly musical voice of Harleen Quinzel echoed in Harley's mind, as the young woman lay on her bed.

"Whaddya want now, ya bitch?! I ain't doing nothing wrong – so you can fuck off!" Harley snapped at her better half.

 _No need for that kind of language, it's rude to swear._

"Not if I'm swearing ta mahself it ain't!" Harley growled out loud.

 _Yes, Harley, it's still rude. But I don't mean right this second; you gave up everything! Your brains, your career, your friends, all for that clown - and where has that landed you? At Arkham Asylum, as a patient!_

"Puddin' is the best thing tha' eva happened ta me! You just don't understand him the way I do! He loves me, like I love him." The jester's voice was dreamy, and Harleen snorted.

 _Then why were you dreaming about Bruce Wayne last night?_

Harley froze. "I weren't! That was you! I love Mistah J, that ain't ever gonna change!" Her response made Harleen laugh.

 _Don't lie to me Harley, I can tell when you're not telling the truth. I AM you, after all. Anyway, you know my heart's with Batman, that dream was all you! Although, I'm surprised - you've never had any... Explicit dreams about the Joker, why Wayne?_ The sane part of her was genuinely curious as to what prompted the dream.

"Look, it weren't nothing serious! It was just an accident and won't happen again!" Harley yelled; by this point she was on the verge of tears.

" _What_ won't happen again?"

The woman screamed loudly and whirled on the bed to face the door. She scowled when she saw a familiar man in a mask. "Whatcha talkin' about Batsy? I didn't say nothing." Harley snapped, embarrassed at him hearing what she had said.

Batman raised an eyebrow under his cowl. "Really, now? Well, I've just heard you have one half of a conversation with yourself and mention an accident. Care to elaborate?"

"Just a nightmare," Harley said, scowling at the Dark Knight. "And anyway, why are _you_ here? Don't tell me I gotta deal with you _and_ Brucie!"

"You are staying with Mr. Wayne because we feel he would be the best person to help you. I am here to make sure you won't escape, but you won't see me often." The vigilante's deep voice was patient as he spoke to the woman in front of him.

Harley groaned. "Great. So I'm living with some playboy who's tryna be nice to me and giving me some bullshit line that he wants to help me, and now I got ya basically accusing me of runnin' away! Don't I get a choice in this?!"

"No."

" _Of course not._ At least there's two boys here. Bruce's sons, yanno? I'm guessing ya do, you must have made sure everything's okay for me to stay here." Harley found herself smiling as she thought about the boys she had met the day before.

Batman looked surprised, then narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. "Oh? I didn't expect you to like teenage boys." Harley laughed loudly at that.

"Don't go getting the wrong idea, Batsy! I ain't some kinda cougar!" She giggled again, then suddenly became solemn, her voice dropping to the natural pitch of Harleen Quinzel. "I have four older brothers, and I lived with them until I was eighteen. I guess Dick and Tim remind me of them." She sniffed and blinked rapidly for a moment, before regaining her composure and grinning up at the caped crusader.

Batman was surprised at her answer, to say the least. Of all the things about his sons she could have said, he was not expecting that. Truth be told, no one at Arkham had really gone through the files on Harley's family other than her main psychiatrist Joan Leland; and, while the jester was very open about her obsession with the Joker, she had refused to speak about her past life with anyone. Bruce hadn't even known she had _one_ brother, let alone _four_. Before he could ask any questions about her family, however, Harley had begun to speak again.

"So since I answered your question 'bout why I like those kids, can I ask you a question now?"

"No." Batman's voice held no hesitation, and Harley glared at him.

"You don't even know what I was gonna ask! It wasn't nothin' personal!"

The Dark Knight sighed. "Harleen, I'm not answering your questions. Ask someone else - isn't Mr. Wayne's job in this situation to talk to you?" A second later, he realised he'd set himself up for the next time he spoke to her as Bruce Wayne, but he couldn't find a way to retract his statement.

"Maybe, yeah, but his life is all over the papers. Not the same thing, really." Harley spoke softly, then turned away from Batman, ending the conversation abruptly.

Bruce stared at her back in confusion. Why was refusing to answer questions such a big deal to her? She herself did it all the time, whenever someone brought up her life before the Joker, as Harleen Quinzel. The vigilante shook his head and walked to the door, when Harley called out to him.

"Bats? I need some face paint. I don't have any, and this one's two days old - I forgot to take it off." Her voice was distant, as though lost in memories meant only for her.

"I'll get you the paint, but only for a while. Then you can't use it." Batman said, before pausing for a moment. "Are you still in contact with your brothers?" He hadn't even meant to ask the question; it had just been on his mind.

Harley sounded very angry when she spoke. "Ya won't answer a question you ain't even heard, but ya want me to answer that? I ain't telling you jack shit."

"Alright then." And the door closed, leaving Harley Quinn alone with the memories she wished she could forget.

 _A/N: Quite short, I know, but I wanted to let everyone know I'm still working on this fic. Thank you again for all the views, and could you guys leave a review? Predictions, ideas, constructive criticism, I want to know what you think! By the way, I'm planning a series of one-shots about encounters between Harleen and Batman before Harley came into the picture, so keep an eye out for that – it'll be up soon! Until next time! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	6. Chapter 5: I Don't Need Your Help

_**Chapter 5: I Don't Need Your Help**_

 _Author's Note: sorry for the long update - I've been working a lot recently and haven't had time to sit down and write. Hopefully, the long chapter will make up for it._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

"Tim, it's 7:00am, she's probably asleep."

"She might be awake! Come on Bruce, what's the problem?" The twelve year-old had been pestering his adoptive dad for quite a while, and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Bruce sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes with his arm as he tried to reason with his adopted son. Tim had found out that Harley had not left her room yet, and was determined to persuade his father into letting her eat breakfast with them. But the boy was forgetting that she wasn't a house guest; she was a mentally damaged young woman living in Wayne Manor to recover from her toxic relationship with the Joker.

"She's not safe, Tim, we all know that. From what Dick says, she wasn't exactly pleasant company when you first met her, and she's not going to get better for a while. It's best if - "

"Why are you scared of going near her?"

Bruce stared at Tim in shock. "I'm not scared of being near her, what gave you that idea?" He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't as red as he feared. "I just don't want her wandering around when she could hurt someone."

"Bullshit." Tim said, glaring at the man in front of him. "Harley Quinn doesn't hurt children, everyone knows that. She's been here for three days, Bruce, and you've spoken to her once as yourself and pissed her off as Batman! She's never going to get better if you just ignore her. What are you so afraid of?" Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but Tim cut across him. "I'm going to school anyway, so do whatever the hell you want. But I agreed with you that we should help her, and you aren't doing that."

Without another word, Robin stood up and walked out the door, straight past Alfred, who was just entering the kitchen. Bruce sighed again and put his head in his hands. "Great. He's right Alfred, he's absolutely right."

"Master Bruce, why don't you go upstairs and talk to her?"

"Because I - "

"Care about her," Alfred interrupted, "yes, I have noticed, sir, and it seems as though Master Tim is beginning to guess. But I agree with him that she shouldn't be ignored. Harleen Quinzel is in love with Batman, but Harley Quinn needs someone to talk to."

Bruce smiled tiredly at the old butler, who, once again, had known exactly what to say. "Thank you Alfred. You're right, no one listens to her - it's about time someone does."

When he got to her room, the door was already open, so he walked through without knocking. She was cross legged in the middle of the floor staring at a large box in front of her. Bruce couldn't help but smile slightly at the look of pure, childish joy on the young woman's face. Alfred must have given her the makeup she had asked for, as well as the clothes Bruce himself had requested for her - after all, she couldn't just wear his shirts for her entire stay. Harley looked up as she heard him walk in, and she grinned at the man in front of her.

"Hey, Brucie! Thanks for the stuff ya got hold of for me."

"No problem Harleen, is it to your liking?" It should have been; the makeup was just as garish as what she used on her heists, and she clothes were mostly casual shirts and jeans, with a few dresses. (Bruce had ensured that the none of the clothes were black, red, purple or green, so she would not be reminded of the Joker or her costume.) The underwear had been a little bit more difficult - he had persuaded Barbara to buy it for Harley, and, after about four hours of shopping, she had returned with every imaginable fit and design, ranging from completely plain to very, _very_ sexy.

"Yup, it's all great. I like blue a lot, so that's good!" She laughed, but it sounded forced, not at all like her usual carefree giggles.

Bruce sat down slowly and not too close to her, in case she panicked at the sudden movement. "Is something wrong? If you don't mind my saying, you sound upset."

"Nah it's not a big deal," Harley sighed, "I just... It's Batman. I don't know how he thinks I'm gonna reform and all this shit if he treats me like he does." Unbeknownst to her, she was slowly losing the ditzy Brooklyn accent, and Bruce noticed a slight change come over her face. Harleen was talking now.

"Do you think he treats you badly?" Bruce asked curiously.

Harleen pulled on one of her pigtails while thinking. "It's not like that, really. I mean, compared to how he treats everyone else in Arkham, he's actually pretty nice to me. It's just... He makes it so clear he doesn't trust me, but wants me to trust you and him enough to get better. Like, he asked me about why I liked your kids - which is kinda a personal question - and I answered without a fuss. Then, I want to ask him something, he won't even bother to listen to my question and just gives me some bullshit line about not answering anything!" Bruce struggled against the faint guilt in his stomach; when put like that, he did seem unreasonable to deny her the question.

"I'm sorry that happened, Harleen. Has it upset you?"

"To be honest," the woman said, "it's not really the fact that he didn't answer my question, it's more the idea that he didn't even give enough of a shit to listen to the damn thing. You wanna hear the best part? I was only gonna ask his favourite colour. It wasn't even anything personal, nothing that would've given him away." She sniffed sadly, looking down at her lap and twisting her hands around.

Bruce felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He wasn't quite sure why she was having this effect on him, but it almost caused him physical pain to know he - or rather Batman - had upset her that much. Before he thought it through, the words were already being spoken. "I know it's probably different than asking the Dark Knight questions, but you can ask me anything if you want. Providing, of course, that I get to ask you questions in return."

Harleen looked up and grinned, smudging her smeared makeup even more. "What's your favourite colour?" He knew it. She was never going to ask anything personal; he'd already said he would ask questions of his own, and the jester clearly wasn't willing to have another emotional conversation.

"Hmm... Probably black. What's your least favourite colour?"

She paused for a minute, pondering her answer. "White."

Bruce was a little surprised. "Why?"

"Because it shows everything. Every little mark is on full display. Unless it's absolutely perfect, the world sees it as the screw up it is." Silence followed her words - on her part from thinking deeply, and Bruce's from shock at receiving such a mature answer for a simple question. He could tell she hadn't really been talking about colours. He was interrupted from his thoughts by Harleen asking another question.

"Least favourite superhero and why?"

"Umm... I guess maybe The Flash," Bruce answered, mentally apologising to Barry for the betrayal, "because he seems to joke around too much, almost like he doesn't take his job seriously." To be fair, that was partly true. "What's yours?"

"Superman." Her answer was immediate. "He's like a glorified Boy Scout. There isn't anything I find threatening about him: the hair, the costume... It all just looks cute - " Bruce had to contain a laugh as he pictured Clark Kent's face if he ever heard this " - and, to be honest, I think the only reason he can protect Metropolis is because pretty much every threat is alien. Stick him in Gotham City at night and the man will be dead before sunrise." She definitely has some good points there, and it gave Batman a certain amount of pleasure to hear her slagging off the Man of Steel.

They carried on their questions for a good hour, all light topics - favourite food, favourite country, things like that - and by the time Bruce had to go to work, although he hadn't learnt anything deeply personal about the Harlequin, he felt that he had just earned a little bit of her trust, something she clearly never gave easily. He smiled as he left the manor, after promising Harleen to talk to her again that evening.

This was definitely progress.

Tim, after Bruce told him that he had been talking to Harleen and she seemed to be opening up a little bit more, had let go of his annoyance at his father and cheerfully spoke about his day at school during dinner. He was certainly more lively than Dick, who had fallen asleep at the table five minutes ago and had yet to wake up. Bruce hadn't wanted to disturb him, considering how much stress Nightwing had been under recently. He had left Bludhaven for a few weeks to visit the Manor, but he was still pushing himself in his training to become a cop. If he didn't stop soon, Bruce decided, Nightwing would be confined to the Batcave until he had enough energy to fight.

After they had eaten, both boys had headed up to their rooms, Tim to play video games and Dick to get some rest before his patrol later on. Bruce, meanwhile, made good on his promise to Harley, and went up to check on her.

"Harleen?" He asked, knocking on her door. "Harleen, can I come in?" When he received no response, he gently pushed the door open and entered the room.

Harley was sitting on her bed with her back to Bruce, her pots of makeup surrounding her. For once, she had undone her bunches, and her dyed blonde hair fell to below her hips in a wave. He'd never seen her hair down before... It looked nice.

Bruce cleared his throat to get her attention. "Harleen, I'm sorry to disturb you, I was wondering if we could talk for a minute..."

No response.

"Harleen?"

Nothing.

"Is everything okay?"

Not a word from the woman.

" **Harleen.** "

Silence, again. _This is ridiculous,_ Bruce thought, walking over to the bed. The jester sat completely still, her legs crossed and her face expressionless. Her makeup and face paint had been meticulously reapplied, both the lipstick and eyeshadow painted on perfectly. But there were tear tracks on her cheeks, and more poured from beneath her closed eyelids.

Bruce stared at her; this was truly a broken woman. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might _not_ be able to help her. The thought cut through him, before he steeled himself; she could recover, he would be damned if she went back to the Joker.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, and she looked around in confusion, before her eyes settled on Bruce and narrowed in suspicion. "Whatcha doin' Brucie? Yanno, it's rude just ta watch a girl like tha'."

He almost winced at her high pitched tone, and was disappointed that it was Harley, not Harleen, speaking. "Are you alright, Harleen? I knocked and you weren't responding."

Harley seemed to realise that she was crying, and wiped her cheeks. She stared at the white makeup that smeared onto her hand. "Stop calling me Harleen, it's Harley. Harley Quinn."

"No it's not."

Her head snapped up, eyes flashing with anger. "The fuck do ya think ya are, _Wayne_? Ya don't know shit, let alone who I am! Just lemme go back to ma life with Puddin' an' Red an' fighting Batsy. I don't need this rehabilitation crap!" She threw something on the bed and lay down dramatically, huffing childishly.

Bruce carefully picked up the object she had tossed, and realised it was a photo. In it were the inmates of Arkham: The Riddler, the Scarecrow, Two-Face, Mad Hatter, everyone. And right in the middle, one arm wrapped around her "Puddin'" and the other one embracing Poison Ivy, was Harley, a smile filling her face with glee. It looked just like a family photo.

A very _dysfunctiona_ l family photo.

But they were the people who Harley counted as her friends, and it would be very difficult for her to - in her eyes - betray them by accepting the rehabilitation Bruce was offering. It was clear she was torn between wanting to get better, and wishing to return to Arkham.

"I don't need your help. I have **them**."

They both knew her words were lies. Her voice was shaking and her sapphire eyes sparkling with tears. Harley Quinn was damaged, there was no debating that, and not one of her "friends" had ever wanted her to recover her sanity. They would have seen it as a betrayal, and Bruce finally saw the problem plaguing Harleen, and the reason for her mood swings.

How do you take a risk and ask for help, if doing so will lose you everything?

 _A/N: Quite a lot of angst in this chapter, with some fluff earlier on. Poor Harley, though – she honestly does want to recover, deep down, but everything she cares about depends on her being insane. At least she's got Bruce though! Hope you liked it! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	7. Chapter 6: Baby Birds and Bat-Cuddles

_**Chapter 6: Baby Birds and Bat-Cuddles**_

 _Author's Note: I am so, so, so, so sorry for not uploading in forever! It's so hard to write this when I'm not inspired that I've given up now, I'm not forcing myself to write. Because of this, it's going to take longer for me to update. I want the story to be my best work, not something that I rushed just so I could post something. And now, the long-awaited chapter 6!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Batman franchise._

 ***Day 4 of Harleen's Rehabilitation***

 _Bruce's POV:_

He was apprehensive today; it had all been going so well since last night, when she'd blown up and he'd seen that picture. They both knew those people weren't her true friends, but Harleen had thrown everything away to live the life of a criminal. It would be near impossible for her to accept that she had to leave them behind if she was to recover. For the millionth time it felt like, Bruce cursed the Joker for breaking someone so perfect the way he did.

Though he was slightly ashamed to admit it, he had been avoiding Harleen all day, sending Alfred up with her food and refusing to visit her. The old butler had told Bruce that ignoring her would only make the situation worse, but it was only when he had mentioned that he had heard the young woman crying that Bruce agreed to talk to her. So here he was, at 9:30pm, going to talk to the woman he loved that he was fairly certain wanted nothing to do with him. Even with the Batman stoicism he couldn't help but feel a stab in his heart as he thought about Harleen's opinion of him.

As he reached the corridor Harleen's room was on, however, he paused. She was in there; he could hear her giggling at something or other. What surprised him was that it was the musical laugh of Harleen Quinzel, not Harley Quinn's shrill peals of laughter, like nails on a chalkboard. Bruce couldn't imagine what was making her laugh so much, until... Was that Dick he heard?

Curiously, he hurried to the door and knocked three times before waiting for an answer. When a woman's voice called for him to come in, he opened the door, and stared at the room in shock.

The two of them were laying on the bed, and Tim was curled up next to Harleen, snoring lightly with his head on her shoulder. The young woman was laughing freely, one hand around Dick's shoulder and the other gently stroking Tim's hair as he slept. Judging by the six empty plates on the floor next to the bed, the boys had been in here for a while.

Bruce stopped, a lump forming in his throat. He had seen how his sons acted around his flings and "girlfriends", and it was completely different from the scene in front of him. Despite Harleen's pigtails and makeup, they truly looked like a family.

"Bruce? Everything okay?" Harleen's voice was concerned.

"Of course," Bruce said, recovering quickly from his musings, "I just came up to check that you're alright, but it doesn't seem necessary now." He smiled gently as Tim curled himself closer to Harleen.

Dick laughed. "Yeah, we've been here since around 4. Tim fell asleep after an hour or so - late night I guess." Bruce sent a small smile towards his son, but kept his eyes fixed on Harleen, waiting for... Well, he wasn't entirely sure what he was waiting for.

"I'm sorry Bruce." But it wasn't that. "I shouldn't have said what I did last night, I know how much you're putting yourself in the line for me, and it means a lot that you would do that." She was blushing slightly, her eyes unable to meet his in her embarrassment and instead fixed on his left shoulder. Bruce smiled at her reassuringly.

"Harleen... Everyone just wants what's best for you, that's the reason you're here. I understand you were stressed last night, you had every right to be. Just remember that everyone in this room - "

"Including the little guy drooling on your shoulder." Dick interjected helpfully, making Harleen giggle.

" - Wants you to be Harleen Quinzel for the rest of your life, not Harley Quinn." He definitely did, more than she could ever comprehend.

There were tears in her eyes by the time he had finished speaking, and she gently kissed the head of the still-sleeping Tim. Bruce watched her curiously, a smile on his face as he saw the affection in Harleen's eyes as she gazed at his son. This was no criminal. Just someone without a lot of affection shown to her, who fell in love with the wrong person.

"I want that too. That's why..." The young woman took a deep breath and sighed, before staring straight at Bruce. "That's why I'm on board."

The two men stared at her, hardly daring to believe what they heard. "What do you mean by 'on board', exactly?" Dick asked.

"I mean I want to recover. It's not going to be easy for anyone involved, and Harley's gonna put up one hell of a fight, but I'm done with this life. Anything you want me to do, I'll do it. I want to be Harleen Quinzel again. Completely." She was smiling as the spoke her next words. "Tell Alfred I'll need dark brown hair dye."

Bruce was absolutely powerless to stop the smile from creeping onto his face, but that wasn't a problem. She wanted to change. She truly did.

 _Thank God._

"What made you change your mind?" He asked.

"It was these two really. They made me realise that I've known you guys for four days and you still treat me better than my supposed friends." There was an understandable amount of bitterness in her voice. "They wouldn't spend six hours trying to cheer me up the way Dick and Tim did, and I've known those people for two years."

"It's not just us though."

Tim had woken up. He shifted into a sitting position on the bed, smiling at Bruce when he realised his dad had joined them while he had been sleeping. "Batman, Nightwing and Robin all have faith in you too - hell, Batman was the one who actually brought you here. He cares about you more than you think. Much more." He looked past Harleen to wink at his brother, and the two of them smirked at Bruce, who felt his face turn red. First Alfred, now the boys?

So much for keeping his emotions hidden.

Harleen ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Yeah, I guess I have known Batsy for a while, haven't I?" She laughed. "Eleven years, actually, I met him when I first moved to Gotham, when I was 16." She smiled, caught up in memories of life before the Joker. There was a moment of silence, then...

"Dick..."

"Yes Tim?"

"I... Umm... IaccidentlysavedoverallyourgameswhenIwasplayingWorldofWarcraft..."

"I can't hear you, speak up."

"I kinda accidentally saved over your World of Warcraft progress... Sorry..."

"..."

"Dick?"

"..."

"Dick you okay?"

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU TIMOTHY DRAKE WAYNE!"

Both Harleen and Bruce had to laugh as the two boys ran through the house, almost knocking over Alfred in the process.

"At least they're getting exercise!" Harleen giggled.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

 ***Two hours later, Harleen's Room***

 _Batman's POV:_

He wasn't quite sure what possessed him to visit Harleen in his suit mere hours after talking to her without it. Maybe it was because, while it was clear she liked Bruce Wayne, Batman was the one who - for some inexplicable reason - held her heart.

She was awake when he opened the door as quietly as possible, laying on her bed gazing up at the ceiling.

"Do you think I can change, Batsy?"

The bluntness of her question caught Bruce off guard for a minute, before he quickly recovered his composure. "Yes I do. You aren't evil, Harleen, you just fell for the wrong man."

The young woman gave a short laugh at that. "Not the only time either. Believe me, I don't fall in love easily, and never with someone simple and easy to love. Then again, I've never wanted simple in any other part of my life; why should my love life be any different?" She sighed quietly, before murmuring, "at least there are girls worse than me for relationships."

Batman found himself subconsciously moving towards her as she spoke, and now realised he was very close to the bed. "What do you mean?" He could have reached out and touched her, if he'd wanted.

"Come see me tomorrow, and I'll tell you my real opinion on Selina Kyle." She scowled as she said the name, like it was an offensive term, and Bruce wondered why that was; as far as he knew, the two women were very good friends. Before he could ask anything, however, Harleen yawned, a sound filled with pure exhaustion.

The Dark Knight smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest bit. "I'll let you get some sleep." He said, turning towards the door. He had almost left the room before he heard her quiet voice.

"Stay."

He turned back to her and stared, unsure what he had just heard. "Pardon?"

"I said stay. I know you're busy, but I don't want to be on my own tonight. Please." Her voice was small and vulnerable, her bright blue eyes impossibly large.

Trying - in vain - to control the churning in his stomach and hoping his cowl hid the faint blush on his cheeks, Bruce walked back over to the bed. Harleen shifted so there was space for both of them, and he slipped under the covers, instantly enveloped by warmth. The woman beside him immediately curled up against him, her head and hand on his chest, and his arms - seemingly of their own accord - wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him until he could feel her heartbeats. Within seconds, her breathing evened out, and Harleen Quinzel fell asleep.

Bruce, on the other hand, was having an inner turmoil. Should he tell her? Should he not? What if she wasn't really asleep? What if she heard him? She could figure out who he was under the mask. But he still felt bad...

And it wasn't until half an hour later, when he was certain the woman in his arms was indeed asleep, that Batman leaned down to whisper into her ear, "My favourite colour is blue."

 _A/N: Aww, I love those two so much! I thought it would be cute if Batman was the one in the romance part of the story, while Bruce supported Harley throughout her rehabilitation. Of course, she eventually has to fell for them both…. But that's AGES away, and I might change my mind again, who knows? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and a shout out to anyone who dislikes Catwoman as much as I do (Honestly, she's just awful!) Hope you enjoyed Chapter 6 – be sure to leave a review; they motivate me to write much quicker! Until next time! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


	8. Chapter 7: Tour

**Chapter 7: Tour**

 _Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for how long it has taken me to update! It been months, but it's here now – thankfully! A massive thank you to my amazing beta_ WolfWriter28, _who has majorly helped me with this chapter and future ones. Hope you enjoy this after the long wait (things are about to speed up.)_

When Harleen woke up the next morning, she was completely alone. There was no trace of the Dark Knight that had kept her company through the night, only a mess of sheets and pillows surrounding the young woman.

He'd left.

For some reason, this filled Harleen with both disappointment and relief. Disappointment because something obviously more important than her had caused him to leave, and relief that she didn't have to talk to him after how strangely kind he'd been last night. It was better that he hadn't stayed - it avoided any awkward conversations.

Then why did her heart suddenly feel heavy at the thought of him leaving?

"Miss Quinzel?" A voice called through the door, interrupting Harleen's musing. "May I come in?"

"Yeah!" She yelled back.

The door opened to reveal Alfred, Bruce's butler, holding a tray full of food. "Breakfast, Ma'am."

"Ooh thanks, Alf." Harleen grinned; Alfred's cooking was amazing and probably better than anything she'd ever eaten. "What is it?"

The elderly man smiled at her enthusiasm. "Bacon and eggs, with toast and coffee." He gently put the plate on the bed next to Harleen, chuckling at her gasp of excitement at the food.

"Aww thanks, Alf. You remembered it's my favourite."

"It's no problem Miss Quinzel, I'm merely doing my job. Also," Alfred added, remembering the message he had to pass along, "Master Bruce has requested that you meet him in his study after you eat."

"Really?" Harleen asked, her eyes wide. "Well, okay, I'll just need to get changed as well."

"Very good Ma'am. I'll leave you to your breakfast." The butler bowed slightly, before quietly exiting the room. Harleen grinned again and dug into her food.

"Oh, Miss Quinzel," Alfred poked his head back into the room from behind the door.

Harleen looked up just as she bit into a piece of bacon, "Mmm?"

"Will you need any assistance finding the study?"

"Uh," She chewed the piece of bacon she had bit off and tapped her chin with the rest of the bacon piece. "Nah, I should be fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, besides it might do me some good to stretch my legs and go on a mini-adventure to find it."

"Very well, Miss Quinzel. I'm sorry for interrupting your meal."

"Oh, it's no problem Alf." As Alfred closed the door and left once again, Harleen resumed digging into her food.

Needless to say, the meal was delicious, and she quickly polished it off, before looking for a nice outfit to wear. After deciding on a white tank top and blue shorts with white pumps, the young woman quickly applied her face paint and left her room in search of Bruce's study.

Harleen wasn't quite sure why he was asking to see her there, since it was the first time she'd left her room since arriving at Wayne Manor. Was her time here up? Would she be sent back to Mistah J?

That one thought almost caused Harleen to freeze up in fear. For the first time in years, she had felt welcome, and couldn't bear for it to end. Bruce, Alfred, the boys... they had all been so kind to her, and, even though she'd only been at the Manor for a few days, it felt like so much longer.

What was happening? For the past four years, Harley Quinn had been completely under the Joker's thumb, doing whatever he wanted her to and spending more time in Arkham Asylum than out of it. And she had been proud, to do it too, while all the time believing that she was doing it all for her Puddin'. But now, for the first time in years, Harleen was slowly gaining control over herself.

The Joker would take that away from her if she left now. He would twist her mind, break it more than ever until she was once again Harley Quinn. She couldn't go back to him, not if there was any other option. She'd die first.

"Harleen?"

Bruce's voice snapped the young woman out of her thoughts, and it was only then that she realised the tears pouring down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away, but it was too late; Bruce had already seen them.

"I-I'm fine." Harleen sniffed.

"No, you're not." Bruce stepped to the side and gestured for her to walk into the room he had just exited. From what Harleen could see, this was the study she was meant to go to. She stepped in and looked around; the room was plain, with only a few chairs and a desk. Bruce walked in behind her and shut the door. "Harleen, what's wrong?" Bruce asked as he took a seat behind the desk and Harleen sat down in the opposite facing chair.

"Nothing..." she answered too quickly and tried frantically to think of an excuse. "I... I just bumped my leg on the door in my room." As Bruce's look of concern deepened, she realised how much pain she would have to be in to cry like that.

"Do you need anything?" His worry was quite endearing, really.

"Nah, I'm fine," Harleen said hastily, trying to find a way to reassure him. "Just hurt a bit, but I'm okay."

The man in front of her gave her another concerned look, but thankfully didn't push the matter further. "Anyway, I wanted to discuss something with you."

 _Oh God, he's gonna send me away,_ Harleen thought anxiously _. I'm going to be stuck in Arkham until HE comes back to break me out._

"You've been here for quite a few days now..."

 _Please, please, please Bruce, don't send me back to that place._

"I should have done this sooner, in all honesty..."

 _No no no no no no no no..._

"You shouldn't be confined to just your room if you're going to stay here. I'll take you on a tour of the house, if you'd like."

 _Well, back to... Wait, WHAT?!_

Harleen stared at Bruce, completely dumbfounded. "Huh?"

"A tour of the rest of the house. Would you like that?" He began to wonder if this was such a good idea. She wasn't saying anything, only gazing at him as though she couldn't understand a word he said. It had been Alfred's suggestion that the young woman see the whole Manor and be allowed more freedom, and Bruce had agreed; keeping her locked in one room would be no more productive than Arkham had been for her. He thought it would be a good idea to get her used to living a relatively normal life - if she were to ever leave the asylum, she would not be confined to one room.

His plan was thrown out of the window when she burst into tears.

Bruce stared frantically at the young woman in front of him as tears dropped down her face. He had never been good with, well, people in general, really, but particularly crying women. Especially if he had no idea why they were crying in the first place. That's why, as awful as it may sound, he was thankful to have adopted boys and not girls – there were very few tears and emotional outbursts when it came to Dick and Tim, and, even then, they were usually perfectly fine after a hug… Of course!

Very cautiously, so he didn't upset Harleen further, the man stood up and crept closer to where she sat, tears still pouring down her cheeks. He gently knelt down so the two were face to face, and gently pulled her close to his chest, his arms wrapping around her shaking shoulders; he felt her head press against his shoulder and ignored the face paint undoubtedly smearing onto his shirt. "Come on, it's alright. Everything's fine, Harleen, I promise." _Jesus, I'm bad at this._

But it seemed to do the trick, as Harleen's sobs quickly quietened to small sniffles, and she pulled her head from his chest soon after, her cheeks red with embarrassment. "Sorry, Bruce, I…. Got a little overwhelmed, I guess."

He smiled reassuringly. "It's fine, honestly. Do you want to talk about it…?"

The blonde looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, her voice so quiet Bruce had to strain to hear it. "I thought you were going to send me back to Arkham." When he didn't respond, Harleen risked a glance up at him; seeing his shocked expression, she tried to explain. "It's just that I've been here for a few days and the bruises and cuts have healed and when Alfred said that you wanted to see me I just assumed…" Bruce held up his hand for silence.

"That place is toxic for you, Harleen, anyone with eyes can see that. It's not helping you, and I think we can both agree that you feel more comfortable here –" he smiled slightly at the woman's vigorous nodding "– so I see no reason as to why you should leave the Manor. You're safe here, Harleen – that's all that matters."

She gave him a small – almost shy – smile, the last trace of tears gone from her face. "So how about that tour?"

The manor was beautiful, Harleen had to admit – and huge too. It took almost half an hour for Bruce to show her the top two floors, which consisted mostly of guest bedrooms, as well as Harleen, Bruce, Dick and Tim's rooms. He then showed her the biggest (and cleanest) kitchen the young woman had ever seen, as well as a large dining room that could easily fit fifty around its mahogany table. The hallways, living room, and ballroom – at the sight of which Harleen couldn't suppress a gasp of delight – were all stunning, but the final room Bruce showed her was by far the most amazing to the young woman.

"And here we have the library." Bruce declared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

It was one of the biggest libraries Harleen had ever been in, and easily the most magnificent. More books than anyone could possibly read in a lifetime lined the many bookcases, which almost reached the high ceiling. The room was quite dark; the only light source came from the crackling flames in an ornate fireplace, the large armchair next to it illuminated by the light. Harleen looked back at Bruce in awe, and he gently nodded his head, giving her permission to take a closer look.

The young woman walked around slowly, her hand gently tracing along the spines of books she passed. There were so many of them, from modern romance novels to nineteenth-century gothic fiction. It's been so long, Harleen thought longingly as she remembered the last time she had been able to read a book….

 _It had been three months ago in Arkham Asylum, and Harley Quinn had been the only inmate in the recreation room – even the guards, knowing that she would cause no issues without her "Puddin'" around, were paying the blonde no attention. Harley wandered over to the bookcase and looked closely at the titles, before finally making a selection: Jane Eyre. She read for an hour, enjoying the unfolding love story before she was disturbed by the other inmates' arrival._

 _One by one, the supervillains stopped in their tracks to stare at the Harlequin, stunned at the sight of her reading so quietly. It was Scarecrow who broke the silence, clearing his throat loudly. "What are you reading over there Harley?" He asked._

 _Harley looked up and quickly closed her book, blushing slightly as she put it down. "Eh, s'nothing really. Just got a bit bored on mah own."_

 _Two-Face snorted loudly, walking over to her and snatching the book. "Jane Eyre?" He asked, insultingly surprised. "Were you really reading this?" He looked down at her, not believing that the Joker's girlfriend could possibly enjoy reading it._

 _The blonde scowled, angry at everyone's shocked expressions. "Yeah, I was actually. I can read, yannoe!" She said indignantly._

" _Of course you can Harls," Ivy said soothingly "We were just… surprised, that's all." While Harley knew she didn't mean any disrespect, it still hurt to think that they thought she was too stupid even to enjoy one of her favourite novels…_

Harleen smiled sadly at the memory; it seemed like all she could remember of her old friends were the times they had made her feel unwelcome or inferior to them. The saddest part, however, was that she knew that those feelings were included in most of her memories involving her fellow Arkham inmates. _What a few days away from them all can do to me…._

Bruce, meanwhile, leaned against the doorway, eyes fixed on Harley. It was strange, having her live in the Manor, especially since she'd been a handful, to say the least. But despite her screaming, crying, refusal to accept help at first...

He could get used to it.

It was a dangerous thought, but one that was nonetheless present in his mind. As he watched the young woman in front of him, it occurred to him that there was so much about her he hadn't learnt yet, and so much that he wanted to know. He knew that, deep down, she wanted someone – anyone – to show some kind of interest in her, wished that they would give enough of a **damn** to actually care about her.

 _It'll be me._

Bruce surprised himself by thinking that, but knew that it was true. _She's gone long enough without anyone being there for her, and I'll be damned if I don't change that._ Harleen was an amazing person underneath all of the damage the Joker had caused, and it was time for her to begin seeing that in herself.

The man was pulled from his thoughts by a loud knocking on the front door downstairs, one that seemed to echo ominously throughout the manor, quickly followed by Alfred's hurried footsteps and the creak as the door was opened by the startled butler.

"Hello, Alfred. I was wondering if Bruce was around? I need to speak with him." _Shit._ Bruce knew that voice – it was one he tried desperately to banish, but remained in his thoughts. A permanent reminder of its owner's betrayal. He stepped closer to the hallway, barely hearing his butler's strained reply.

"Of course, Miss Kyle, He will be down shortly."

 _A/N: Oh dear, what's Little Miss Kitty sunk her claws into this time? (Sorry, I couldn't resist!) Again, sorry for the long wait for this chapter, and thank you for everyone that has kept on reading this. Leave a review to let me know what you think! ~ Dark Knight HQ xx_


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